


Sacrificial Lamb

by Lilolil



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Blood Biting, Blood and Injury, Episode: s2e21 Judgment Night, Gen, Ghoulies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilolil/pseuds/Lilolil
Summary: SPOILER to Season 2 Episode 21 Judgement Night.Jughead sacrifices himself to Penny and the Ghoulies the night of the riot in hopes to end the chaos. However, he is in for a lot more than he thought. Hurt Jughead ensues.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	Sacrificial Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters. This piece does have graphic details of torture, gore, and lots of hurt Jughead. 
> 
> Spoilers to season 2 episode 21 Judgment Night! I felt that the end of this episode and the start of the next episode was anticlimactic and the recovery was severely lacking. So here is the version I had floating in my head after watching. Upfront - I am pretty lousy at continuing pieces, so this may be all that there is or maybe not!
> 
> Hope you enjoy regardless. -Lil

“The Sacrificial Lamb arrives,” Penny announces Jughead’s presence with an underlying look of satisfaction. 

“I’ll remind you of the deal I made with your boss, Hiram Lodge. I hand myself over to you tonight and there’s no bloodshed tomorrow,” Jughead finishes his approach to the group. 

“Apparently, getting you out of the picture is more important to him than an all-out Serpent annihilation,” even though Penny was itching to crush the Southside Serpents, her taste for revenge against Jughead was boiling even more intense. 

“30-to-1. Are you that afraid of me?” Jughead goads, ready to get this over with in hopes that it will cease the riot and war at hand. 

Malachi and the Ghoulies begin to approach him and circle around him. “The only scary thing is what we’re going to do to your girlfriend when we find her,” Malachi’s voice gravels low and threatening. 

And with that remark, Jughead swings a solid punch at Malachi, eliciting a groan from the face-painted Ghoulie. 

Jughead’s knees buckle from a swift kick at the back of his knees. As soon as his knees squish in the mud, someone’s knee connects with the bridge of his nose right in between his eyes. His nose instantly begins gushing blood and he thinks it could be broken, but he hardly has time to react before brass fists and steel toed boots pummel him from all angles. A boot jams into his ribs, just as another smashes down onto his shoulder, all while a brass fist digs its way into his stomach impossibly deep. The pace is rapid and soon enough, those hits are replaced with others upon others. 

Everything he sees around him are quick flashes of angry, menacing faces bobbing back and forth behind the fists and boots. Somehow his sights stumble upon Malachi, front and centre with a bloody lip. Instead of looking angry, it appears that Jughead’s punch only ignited excitement with Malachi practically jittering from anticipation of getting his hands on him. Like a predator capturing his prey, Malachi carelessly pushes Ghoulies that are in his way aside until he is grabs hold of Jughead’s jacket and really starts to lay into him. He concentrates his punches at Jughead’s head and face, but occasionally goes to his ribs. By this time, Jughead is pretty sure he feels a few ribs fracture under the brass fist pounding and boots that blow when there is an opening. He is defenseless but going into this he knew this would be the outcome, so while he still tries to protect himself, he knows he will ultimately fail. 

Jughead hears Penny shout something in the distance. Then her voice loudly booms, “Enough!” and with some final punches, the Ghoulies dissipate to form another circle around him. It is almost as if someone parted the sea, exposing Jughead’s bloody, beaten form in the muddy soil. He is laying on his side, curled up as the only protective measure he could muster. Surprisingly enough, he can still open his eyes, even as blood trickles down one. He is having a hard time breathing through his nose, so his mouth is open trying to steady his breathing, and he can taste the copper essence of his blood. 

His gaze lands on Penny who is standing there wielding her pocketknife. 

“Well, Juggy – I hope you are enjoying your party,” she mocks in a venomous tone, “because I know we sure are happy you came.” She slowly walks closer while twirling her knife in her hand with a casual twist in her wrist. “But it is just getting started.”

And with that, she nods her head silently directing two Ghoulies to approach him. He knew it wouldn’t be good but was beyond his thoughts in the ‘not good’ category. He puts his hands on the ground in a weak attempt to lift himself up; however, the two Ghoulie goons are quick to grab both his arms and they wrestle him back to the ground. They hold up his upper body then roughly yank at his jacket. After removing it, they proceed to toss it off to the side. 

It’s cold. All he has is his thin black shirt, jeans, boots and, surprisingly, his iconic beanie is still in place on his head. Barely hanging on, but he takes comfort in knowing it is there. The cold and his beanie are the least of his concerns as he sees Penny licking the knife while her eyes remain locked on Jughead. It is all too clear what payback is about to happen. 

The one Ghoulie holding his Serpent tattooed arm, arranges his arm in such a fashion that exposes his tattoo to Penny. Jughead’s mind is a scramble as he unconsciously holds his breath and pulls against his restraints. His heart is beating faster and faster and Penny gets closer and closer; eventually, she starts to lower herself, her eyes never leaving Jughead’s eyes as she reads the underlying panic that bubbles within them. He turns away to avoid the agony of looking. Malachi quickly wraps his hand around the back of Jughead’s and forces him to return his gaze. 

Keeping his hand there, Malachi hovers in a squat behind him, his body brushing close to Jughead’s upper body and whispers, “You’re not gonna want to miss this…”

A glint of the knife catches Jughead’s eyes as Penny lowers it to his skin. 

No…

Jughead sees and feels the slice of the knife in his skin. He renews his struggles stronger than before and begins to twist and kick his feet at the woman skinning him. 

“Someone grab his feet!” She yells after a particularly uncomfortable kick at her side. A Ghoulie rushes to his feet pinning them down. Once Penny settles back to her position, she smiles and feels her revenge as she resumes skinning her victim.

Jughead grits his teeth and unconsciously clenches his fists, making the pain intensify as his arm muscles spasm underneath the knife. He has never felt such terrible, searing pain. Sure, he had his fair share of injuries when he was younger. The many times where he was being a rebel with his best friend Archie and they ended up sporting a many minor and couple serious injuries. And his final Serpent initiation wasn’t particularly painless after walking through a beating from the gang he would soon call his family. 

This pain in comparison – was unearthly. Halfway through Jughead releases a guttural yell he can no longer suppress and tries to throw his head back into Malachi or even to the side to no avail. His head is fixed in place, watching the knife saw into his skin and crimson blood rush down his arm. The pain engulfs him and there was no way to hide from it. Penny seemed to be taking her sweet time with it too. Instead of what Jughead and the rest of the Serpents did with her – getting it over with quick and chasing her out of town. 

He yells again and the unavoidable, painful sensation that courses through his body. Suddenly, a wave of nausea crashes over him. He had never felt so physically weak in his life. The colour drains from his face and his vision begins to blur. He closes his eyes and realizes they are wet. In that moment, he also realizes that while Malachi may have control over his head, he certainly can still shut his eyes. Maybe passing out was the only way to hide from his torture. He would gladly embrace that blessing.

Closing his eyes brings darkness. Now, sounds seem amplified. He can hear his unsteady breath. He can hear the other Ghoulies shuffle and mindlessly groan in pleasure as if enjoying the sight below them. He can hear Malachi’s taunting breath and words, “You’re all alone now. Your pathetic – you think you are a leader? Just a weak little boy, skin so soft it’s being sliced like butter…”

“Open your eyes, Jughead!” Penny spits out. He refuses to comply. They can take his movement away from him, but not this. 

Frustrated, Penny yanks on his half-peeled skin and punctuates “Open…your…eyes.” He resists as long as he can, but particular pull jolts pain throughout Jughead and with a pained gasp, his eyes fly open. Even in the dark of the night, the flames light up Penny’s face with dark contrasting features. She smiles as he succumbs to her demands.

“Now, I have my pound of flesh Jughead,” and with that, she cuts the remaining skin, completely detaching the skin with his Serpent tattoo. Jughead chokes on his uneven breath and his body practically spasms against his restraints. His face is clammy and sweaty even as a cold wind blows. The open wound stings in the cold night air and so does his wet eyes. 

Penny grabs Jughead’s chin firmly with bloody fingers. “Don’t have much to say any more now, do ya?” Penny jibes looking now into Jughead’s distressed eyes. 

“Screw you,” Jughead grinds out with a renewed fire in his eyes. “You are nothing but a low-life traitor, Penny.”

Penny just shrugs without a care. The corner of her mouth lifts in a sideways smirk, “Ghoulies, it’s time to put out Mr. Jones’ fire for good. Make sure he isn’t breathing. I have other business to attend…Sorry I couldn’t stay for your party,” she blows a taunting kiss at Jughead and with that she turns and makes her leave. 

Without too much wasted time, Malachi’s daunting face returns close into view.

“We are going to have so much fun with you,” his smile is sinister and sends an internal shiver down Jughead’s cold, beaten body, but he is determined to keep the Ghoulies from breaking him. 

Malachi continues, “Ghoulies have a tradition.” As he says this, everyone surrounding Jughead rolls their heads slowly as if in ecstasy and organize themselves around him in some sort of formation. Jughead remains on the ground as Ghoulies group up. Now, there are four groups of seven lined up either side of him. Malachi stands in the dead centre by his feet. The towering inequality is ever so prominent as Jughead is mangled in the middle. 

Malachi nods and one person from each group holds his arms and legs with the rest still standing behind. Malachi moves forward closer to Jughead and nervous pit grows in Jughead’s stomach. 

Malachi steps between his limbs and the crew holding them. The Ghoulie leader crouches by Jughead’s head and with his thumb and middle finger, he plucks his faithful beanie off. 

Jughead’s black hair falls messily to the side, the back of his head is caked with mud and blood. Malachi whispers warm breath into his ear, “Ghoulies drink the blood of their prey.”

And with that statement, Jughead’s eyes go wide with disbelieving confusion as he looks up at Malachi. This has to be some joke. But as he reads Malachi’s face, there is no sense of joking. 

Malachi also reads Jughead’s face and tilts his head with a toothy satisfied smile and clearly pleased with the reaction. Then he admires his work. Fully taking in the sight of congealed blood on practically every inch of Jughead’s face; from the gash on his forehead, the split on his nose and lips, and the slice on his cheek. Then the blossoming signs of bruises quickly emerging under his eyes, swelling his left cheek and God knows where else those beautiful bruises lay. 

Jughead breaks Malachi’s trance as he spits a wad of blood and salvia up at him. Malachi doesn’t even flinch, just slowly wipes the wet substance from his face. 

Then rather quickly, almost like a snake strikes, Malachi pulls out his taser and jabs it into Jughead’s side. The unexpected attack rips a hoarse yell from Jughead as his body tries to contort but is unable to do so as he is pinned down by the other Ghoulies. It’s almost as if they feel the current surging through the squirming body as they jitter with excitement.

Malachi pulls the taser away and watches as Jughead breathes rapidly as he attempts to calm his body from the uncontrollable spasms. While Jughead struggles to recover, Malachi pulls his pocketknife out and begins to slice down the front of his shirt exposing the young Serpent’s pale, toned torso scattered with an array of colourful bruises that have already begun to form. 

The group is looking towards their leader – waiting for the approval, the command, the signal to proceed. But Malachi waits. He waits until Jughead returns from his shock treatment and is fully aware again. For good measure, Malachi taps on the side of Jughead’s face, earning a wince as Jughead moves his head away from the offense. Jughead swallows hard and looks back at his current status. 

He is freezing cold in his halfway naked state and he can now see almost all the Ghoulies faces surrounding him which was different from the beating where he could only see bits and pieces. Time felt like it was moving more slowly. This slow pace is worse than what he originally thought would be a painful, albeit fast, beat down. Over and done with. But it seems like they had other drawn out torturous plans. 

“Hey Juggy, how ya feelin’? Are you with me?” Malachi’s fake sincerity thoroughly disgusts Jughead. Malachi doesn’t wait for his reply though, “It’s time we had our feast at your party now.” 

His stomach sinks even further, but he is tired of waiting for this to end. “What are you waiting for then? Get on with it!” Jughead sneers back, locking his defiant eyes with Malachi. 

“You’re going to wish we never crossed paths. But I am glad that I get the first taste,” and with that Malachi grabs Jughead’s hair roughly and sinks his teeth savagely into the slope of his neck near his collar bone. 

Jughead’s entire body clenches; his teeth, fists, eyes, toes. The bite pressure continues to and Malachi shakes his head just as a predator would to tear it’s meal to shreds. Jughead prays he won’t actually take a chunk out of him. He gets sick thinking about how much force would be needed to do that. Malachi’s teeth feel unusually sharp for a human, but they looked like regular teeth. 

After what seems like forever, Malachi opens his mouth and slowly lifts his head. He makes sure Jughead sees his teeth, mouth, lips and chin smeared with his blood. And Jughead sees it alright. 

Jughead’s neck throbs in pain as Malachi rises. His own blood swirling around his capture’s mouth. As much as he is in pain, Jughead is mortified that this is the Ghoulie way. He knew they were wrong, but this is just messed up. In a sick sense, this was very ghoulish. 

Malachi licks his lips and smiles, “tastes pretty good everyone. Dig in,” and with that Jughead simultaneously feels four more Ghoulies bite into his skin. Two are on latched on to either side of his flanks, one is on his left bicep, and the last is on his pectoral. Again, Jughead clenches at the assault on his body. 

It seems like ages again before the four lift their heads with blood smeared on each of the mouths. Jughead’s eyes prick with tears from clenching his eyes so hard. The amount of pressure it took for each to pierce his skin varied, but it was painful all the same. With his eyes open, he notices how the Ghoulies look for approval by their leader, almost assessing to make sure they drank the blood of their victim. Some of the Ghoulies look more into the ritual than others who look less sure. 

Malachi nods his head pleased with the group before they move away allowing the next group to replace their hold on him and prepare for their taste. Jughead throws his head back into the mud as the second round of bites break his skin. He grinds his teeth and his breath hisses.

Jughead loses track of how many bites and where they land on his body by the fifth group. However, the pain remains with each savage and brutal bite all following in the footsteps of their leader. Jughead tries to drift, let his mind go to another place, just like when he writes at Pop’s. 

He hopes that the riots have settled down and that all his friends and Serpents are avoiding the bloodshed and chaos. He thinks about Betty and Archie hoping that his longest standing best friends are looking out for one another. Damn he wishes he will see them again, but now he’s not so sure he will. Then his mind goes darker wondering if Hiram Lodge will ever be stopped from his filthy grasp on Riverdale. Stopped from destroying his home and the home for many of the people he cares about. If he somehow makes it out of this, he will make it his primary focus to bring Hiram down. 

Almost as his mocking his thoughts, a particularly painful bite jars him back to the present. Jughead’s eyes shoot open and he grinds his teeth with a hiss at the agony radiating from his flanks again. He manages to lift his head enough to glance down his body. He grimaces at the countless bloody teeth circles littered throughout. Malachi is holding the last Ghoulie’s head down forcing them to continue to bite harder and harder into his flesh.

Malachi’s feral smile beams when he sees Jughead’s mind return and his gaze takes in all the damage done. Malachi lets go of the Ghoulie’s head and the boy lifts his head with a mouthful of blood. The scrawny Ghoulie is dripping excessive amounts of blood onto Jughead’s body. 

At a glance, all of Jughead’s skin appears to still be intact yet severely mangled and thoroughly tenderized like a piece of meat. All his open wounds – from the bites to where his tattoo was removed – are pulsating in pain. 

Almost as if on cue, Malachi presses a finger into the newest bite mark eliciting a sharp inhale of pain from Jughead which has him curling towards the offense all while trying to escape it. 

In that moment though, he realizes that he has control of his movements again. He is no longer being held down. As much as he would like to break and run for it, he knows he wouldn’t get far and the threat of Malachi going after Betty still rings in his mind. But his willful and determined nature still won’t let him go down without a fight. 

Malachi hovers inches over Jughead’s crumbling form about to say some power-hungry words, but before he gets a chance, Jughead’s fist backhands Malachi right in the nose. With all of Jughead’s remaining energy, he bursts upwards lunging towards Ghoulie now sporting a matching bloody nose. While Malachi is still stunned, Jughead manages to bring him to the ground with his body weight. He lands a series of punches into the Ghoulie Leader’s face. Even he will admit, the punches don’t have the full impact as they normally would – if he wasn’t frozen stiff and aching in pain, he is sure he could knock him out. But he gains satisfaction as his fists connect with Malachi’s face.

However, just as he walked into this peace offering, he knows he won’t win. Surely enough, a couple Ghoulies, who were originally standing frozen watching the scene unfold, respond to Malachi’s shout, “Do something idiots!”

Two of the many Ghoulies grab hold of Jughead’s bare and bloody-slick arms to pull him off of their leader. 

Malachi straightens up, blood smearing his gothic makeup and underneath it, he is sure there will be bruises. Jughead smiles at a small victory of messing up Malachi’s face more than it is already. 

“Oh Juggy, you are just asking for more. You really like pain that much huh,” Malachi’s dark gravelly voice still remains so – pleased. Like he enjoys Jughead’s futile attempts of fighting back. 

He approaches Jughead who is still being held by two Ghoulies either side and rolls his neck. “Well, let me enlighten you, Jug. Get the chains and take him to the trees of Judgement,” Malachi directs another two Ghoulies to grab two heavy duty silver chains sitting by the fire. 

Not far away, they drag Jughead and the chains into a nearby clearing with another small fire. The chains clank against the dirt and rocks on the ground. The sound echoes in Jughead’s mind. After the Ghoulies blood drinking ceremony, Jughead has no idea what will be in store.

Jughead is positioned between two large trees that are jutting out from the rest of the forest edge. The Ghoulies unravel the chains and bring them either side of Jughead, he notices inch wide shackles welded to the ends of each length. The pair open around his wrists and clamp down at a perfect fit where he isn’t able to slide out. The Ghoulies lock them shut. Strangely enough, the metal is warm against wrists either heated by the fire or an indicator that he is that cold. 

The chains are stretched in opposite directions until they pull Jughead’s arms taunt. Then they wrap the chain multiple times around the two adjacent trees and lock them in place. He is standing there in a ‘T’ formation. His upper body throbs and some areas are still dripping blood down his body. 

He wonders aimlessly, how long it has been since he called Betty. Of course, he was pretty cryptic, but maybe help would be on the way. Or maybe everyone is too caught up in the riots, The Blackhood and preparing for a gang war to notice his absence. He didn’t mention anything to anyone else and it’s obviously been less than a night, so it is possible that no one is on their way. Only the distant sound of wood scrapping the ground. 

Malachi casually walks over carelessly dragging a wooden bat behind him. “Time for the piñata – another one of my favourite party games,” he raises the bat, looking at it admiringly and then slings it over his shoulder before returning his gaze to Jughead. He stands within feet of his hanging human piñata. 

Jughead straightens up, pulling against the chains and flexing his defiance. 

And with that Malachi lifts the bat off his shoulder slightly and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He points the bat directly at Jughead hovering it dauntingly between them. Then he brings it back over his shoulder before lunging a full swing at Jughead’s left side ribs. 

Jughead completely loses his breath. He feels the direct contact of the wooden bat on his unshielded skin. His stance instinctively folds towards his left side, but shortly after he feels another hit against his right upper thigh. 

He yells in pain. The bat reverberates a shockwave of pain throughout his leg. 

The hits are now landing in fast succession. After his leg, Malachi swings madly connecting with any part of Jughead possible. Malachi starts to change his position in order to get different direct targets. He stands on Jughead’s side before unleashing the full surface of the bat into his stomach knocking air and spit mixed with blood out of him. 

Jughead’s body hurts so bad. He is positive that his forearm is broken after the bat came crashing down ripping a guttural yell out of him. This along with his ribs and ankle he now suspects are broken from the wrath of Malachi and his bat. This exposed body is unable to avoid the hits and is incapable of even knowing how to hold himself. He isn’t able to stand upright without pain shooting down his legs, but then reducing the weight on his legs only sends an unbearable pain in his arms, especially in the one that is broken.

Malachi continues to circle him like a shark waiting to take another bite. The rest of the Ghoulies have been ordered to stand there and watch ‘the candy spill’ out of Jughead. 

The thought of him dying becomes a sinking reality closing in on him. 

Another hit lands on his lower back and he viciously clenches his teeth holding back another yell. Then, unable to see Malachi, Jughead feels his head snap to the side. 

He doesn’t hear anything and heck, he can’t even tell if he is breathing anymore. His vision is blurry with dancing black spots, and he blinks slowly trying to regain composure. His head nauseously rolls back in front of his body which is now limp only held up by the chains that dig into the broken skin on his wrists and unable to react to the painful protests in his battered arms. 

He feels fingers snake through his hair and pull his head up. The movement nearly causes him to puke, but his vision comes back into focus and he sees Malachi’s face closely hovering in front of him. A heavy drop of blood hangs on Jughead’s eyebrow just before sloping down and seeping into his eyelid creases. His head is having trouble comprehending everything. On and off again he can see Malachi. 

“You’re going to die here tonight, Juggy,” Malachi coos. Jughead really hates him using his nicknames but doesn’t have the energy to say anything. 

Malachi props the bat under the weight of his left hand and uses his right to pull out a knife. He runs the tip of the knife along Jughead’s chest before bringing it up to Jughead’s cheek where it rests for a few moments. Then he drags it across his cheek drawing fresh blood amongst the bloody, bruised mosaic on his face. He presses a clear vial next to the slice and blood fills the tiny container. 

“A little momento to remind me of how I broke Jughead Jones and how good it tasted,” Malachi’s sick twisted smile shines as he pulls the full vial in front of his and Jughead’s face to show it off. It looks like a black liquid, but when the distant fire catches it, the crimson red glistens. Malachi puts a cap on it and tucks the vial into an inside pocket of his jacket. 

Grabbing the bat in both hands again, he swings full force into his chest. Jughead coughs a spray of blood and his head hangs as he wheezes. He can’t breathe. Something in his chest snapped and he can’t intake air. He struggles weakly against his bindings and it takes all his energy to lift his head up. 

Blood flows onto his lips and chin running down his neck. Just as he continues to panic to breathe, the urge to cough erupts and blood spits out. He manages to inhale air, but it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy his lungs for long. 

All of a sudden, the Ghoulies begin fleeing. Malachi still stands in front of Jughead, now splattered with his blood, but grimaces as he also stomps away. Something in the nearby distance spooked them. 

Jughead is unable to stay awake with the lack of air and overwhelming pain throughout his body. His vision darkens and his head falls forward again – this time for good as his eyes stay closed and mind goes unusually blank. 

\--------- 

“Jug!” FP is frantically looking through the heavy, dark forestry. Upon arriving, he heard a shuffle in this direction and begins to desperately to locate his son after multiple attempts to get ahold of him on his cell phone. Penny’s original campsite is now vacant, but the fire is still flickering. 

He calls his son’s name numerous times before arriving at another clearing lit by a small, glowing fire. FP comes to a shuddering stop as he sees a dark-haired figure hanging limp by chains. He struggles to get his legs to move again. Internally, he yells at them to fucking move. 

He knows. He knows without a shadow of doubt in his mind that his son has been left hanging half naked like a piece of meat in between two trees. FP is barely moving forward. Instead, he is crumbling forward as he continues to scan his son for life at a distance – too afraid to get close to a truth he doesn’t want to know. 

FP can hardly make out skin anymore… there just blood… everywhere. His stomach sinks and his breath catches – stuck in his throat. 

FP’s head jerks he sees the lifeless figure ever so subtly twitch, causing the chains to rattle. FP eyes go wide and just then his legs decided to start working again. He scrambles in the leaves and runs faster than he has ever. He slides in the organic mulch and mud. His first reaction is to grab his son, but he stops and instead softly whispers, “Jug…” 

There is no response, but looking more closely, FP can see a string of blood slowly dropping towards the ground. He can’t wait any longer. He needs to get Jughead free. He examines the shackles and notices their locked. He growls low and frantically searches for his lock pick in his jacket. 

He finds the metal and pulls it out. He wastes no time in picking the left cuff first. He normally is swift at opening simple locks, but his hands will not stop shaking. Eventually he hears the clink of the lock releasing and holds his son up as the left binding falls away. At that time, he also sees the gaping wound where his son’s Serpent tattoo used to be. He grinds his teeth and blinks back tears. 

FP shuffles them both closer to the right tree in order to set Jughead down so he can work the other lock holding his son. He finds himself choking back sobs as he fumbles to get it open. He can now see glimpses of the torture evident all across his son’s broken body. He can hardly even hear him breathing if it wasn’t for the inconsistent wheeze and almost unnoticeable rise in his chest. 

Finally, the lock clicks and FP shakes away the shackle. He needs to get Jug to a hospital now. He feels a cold wind blow by and shivers. His half naked son trembles ever so slightly. He hastily shuffles out of his jacket and lays it over his body. In the process he glances over the countless bloody bite marks littered on his son’s body. He sucks in air and tenses with deep anger. Revenge on the Ghoulies would be bittersweet…

Right now, though, he has to get his son the hell out of here. With no graceful or gentle way to do this, he slides his hands and arms underneath his son until he is able to lift him from the ground into his own body.

His chest thumps loudly as his son doesn’t even stir but instead his head and arm lifelessly fall away. Jughead looks so incredibly vulnerable and exposed like this. His bloody and muddy hair falls away, revealing his face covered in his own blood. 

Blood. Blood everywhere. Too much blood. 

FP cradles his son to his chest as best as he can and begins to walk back to where he left his bike. He hopes that Toni and the rest of the Serpents contacted the gang to bring reinforcements; otherwise, he will next need to determine how he can ride with Jug in this state.

However, already he can hear soft voices rumble as he approaches Penny’s hideout again. As he maneuvers carefully around the shrubs, he sees the crew standing there, watching him carrying his son. Their faces are shrouded with concern and uncertainty whether or not Jughead is still alive. Betty’s face is shocked as she silently mouths ‘Jug.’ 

“Archie, do you have your dad’s truck?” FP blurts out, a little curter than he intended. However, he can tell on everyone’s faces that they all understand as they jump into action. 

“Yeah, Mr. Jones – over here!” Archie instantly moves into action and runs back to the truck with Sweetpea and Betty in tow. The two high school boys open the doors and begin to clear off all the seats. 

FP is right behind them but moves cautiously in an effort not to jostle Jughead. Betty hovers helplessly to the side with endless concern flooding her mind. All the other Serpents who came are now standing respectfully to the side while they watch their leaders. 

“It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be alright – Jughead is a fighter,” FP says aloud to Betty and the others, but it’s mostly a mantra to himself. How could he have let his son get this hurt? He brought his son into this life, as a gang member and let Jughead stand in the crosshairs of his past sins. He squeezes his eye shut and instinctively his fists as well. 

Jughead lets out a groan with a wheeze. 

FP eyes fly to his son’s face and he pushes his own selfish thoughts away. This is about his son and urgently getting him to the hospital. 

“Get in the back seat, Mr. Jones. I’ll drive you,” Archie says as he looks at FP. FP nods and with that Archie quickly helps them into the back seat, laying Jughead out as much as possible. Jughead’s upper body is still propped up against his dad’s chest in an effort to help him breathe.

“Sweetpea, take my bike,” FP says as he fishes his keys awkwardly out of his pants and tosses them over to him. 

“I’m coming with,” Betty states as she climbs into the passenger side seat of the truck. FP nods knowing Jughead would have done the same. 

Archie jumps into the car almost at the same time he starts the truck. Within a few seconds, they driving away with mud flinging up around the sides.


End file.
